


When Everything We Fought For Was A Lie (doesn’t that make us liars?)

by Nazezdha321



Series: All’s Fair in Love and War [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Everybody Dies, Hopping on board that angst train, how about y’all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23165008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nazezdha321/pseuds/Nazezdha321
Summary: This is my angst package, full of a lot of people dying and a lot of people being upset about it, so.Essentially everybody got captured by Kasius, because I am not canon compliant, and now they get to fight to the death in order to save one another.
Relationships: Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie/Yo Yo Rodriguez, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Phil Coulson/Melinda May, all the relationships in season 5, but for clarity’s sake:
Series: All’s Fair in Love and War [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678204
Comments: 52
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to you! I love hearing your feedback and receiving your kudos! It means the world to me! 
> 
> Stay safe and don’t die out there ;)

Melinda May has been stuck in this cell for at least two and a half days, if the meals she has received are anything to count by. Of course, the Kree could be messing with her, and it really has been six days, or even a week and a half, but May figures Kasius doesn’t want the extra effort. She doubts he even thought to try it. He isn’t smart enough. He’s not the brains of this operation. 

Sinara, however. She’s devious, and cunning. She could probably get everyone in this damn bunker to put the Earth together, rock by rock, if she wanted to. 

May respects her for that. It takes talent to be that manipulative. Talent, and probably some form of cold-blooded lack of compassion. It’s ironic, because that’s what people say about the Cavalry. That she was a hero, of course, but also that she killed everyone without a second thought. That she was unstoppable, that she was invincible. They knew what they were implying. That she was a monster. They didn’t say that, that she was a killing machine, but they meant it. 

_Because aren’t they the same? Don’t all heroes become monsters? Don’t you want to be like the Cavalry, who took out a hundred men on horseback, or twenty assassins with a pistol? Don’t you want to be a hero, too?_

Or, she supposes, that’s what they used to say. She’s faded out of myth. Those who spun the legends themselves are long dead, their descendants more focused on survival than stories, and there are no tales of heroes in the Lighthouse. 

Only villains, failed liberations, and nightmares that have become reality. 

When May was first locked up, she figured she’d have to fight her way out. She did excercises for her leg, never revealing just how much it hurt, but it did. She went over happier memories in her mind to pass time, memories of Daisy and Coulson, of FitzSimmons, or their team, and those who they had lost, Bobbi and Hunter and Trip. Memories of Coulson at the Academy. Then the memories got bleak, everything leading back to some death or another, and she did tai chi, trying to forget that this horrific future could actually be a reality. 

That it _is_ reality, at least for now. 

Currently, May is sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, trying to remember Natasha and Clint’s endless games of tag and Smash or Pass: SHIELD Version, back when they had been younger (Nat passed on everybody, and Clint smashed everybody). 

Younger, May knows, does not necessarily mean more innocent. 

She hears gruff voices outside, then a scraping metal sound as the cell door opens. May stumbles to her feet, blinking to adjust to the influx of light. A Kree warrior looks down on her (she tries to figure out if Bobbi would have been eye level with the aliens. Probably. Be like Bobbi, she prays, because she can’t stand how condescending they seem). 

He jerks his head at her arms. May sighs. Too bad they aren’t complete idiots. She holds out her arms, and they are soon shackled (maybe she can dislocate her thumb and run?). 

A guard of six more Kree surround her as she steps out of the small metal cell (so maybe not). 

One of them pokes her in the back. She takes that to mean _walk._ May walks slowly, allowing herself to think of a plan to escape. She can maybe slip below the one to her left, or in between the two in front of her. But all of these plans require her to run. Which is out of the question, given her leg. Maybe she could try to contact the others somehow. 

Who was she kidding? If they could have come by now, they would have. May is on her own.

_Just like she was in Bahrain. Because heroes are always alone. They always face the enemy, the indomitable force, the villain alone._

The two Kree in front of her stop abruptly, and she crashes into them accidentally-on-purpose, falling to the floor. She glares up at her captors. They keep a blank expression. She hides her hands, trying to find anything, a key or a paper clip (luxuries of back home, she remembers, because who has paper clips here?), anything at all to use as a weapon. But to no avail.

The Kree to her right yanks her by her arm, and the another unlocks her restraints. Then he shoves her through a door. 

It’s an arena-like structure, no, it _is_ an arena. Up near the top, with an orange barrier shielding them, are Kasius and numerous (maybe a hundred, or more, May guesses, but no more than five hundred) other aliens. Sinara stands by Kasius, who sits in a golden throne, with four servants in their soft blue robes and gold makeup behind him. Simmons isn’t there. Sinara is toying with her metal spheres. Her expression looks blank, to anyone but May, who, like her, has been wearing that face for years. 

May can see through the facade. She’s excited, and hungry, like an animal is hungry. She’s waiting for a treat. 

_What, then, is a treat to a snake?_

“Nice of you to drop in,” mutters a familiar voice. May whirls around to find Mack in a cage, much like a bird’s, near the back of the arena. 

“What the hell is going on?” May replies quietly. 

Yo-Yo, next to him in her own cage, shrugs. She looks unconcerned to anyone who doesn’t know her, but May sees the worry in her eyes. May tilts her head to the side in silent question amongst the chatter of the alien onlookers. 

_Can you break free?_

Yo-Yo motions to the lock. It’s elaborate, and while most of it is probably just for show, there’s definitely going to be some complication in picking it. If she had a tool. And wasn’t surrounded by aliens. 

_What about Daisy?_

Mack shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. 

_Coulson?_

Yo-Yo copies him, no doubt remembering their training: don’t give the enemy anything to use against you. 

_FitzSimmons?_

They both shake their heads. May sighs. Either the rest of the team is trying to free them, already captured, or... well, May doesn’t want to think about the other option. 

_But there always is that option - the option that they died, suffering, begging for mercy._

She studies the exits. There’s the one she just came through, shut and barred, no doubt guarded by Kree on the other side, and an identical one across the sizable arena. 

Suddenly, gears begin turning, and another cage descends next to Yo-Yo. May jumps back on instinct, arms ready to defend herself. Aliens shush one another to see who is trapped inside. 

The face isn’t what May expects. 

_But we never expect our demons to look us in the eye, do we? We never expect to look in the mirror and see the face of our ghosts, of those who haunt us unrelentingly_ _. But we do._


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Jemma!_ ” Fitz yells, pounding on the iron grids that make up his own elaborate cage. 

“Turbo?” Mack asks, clearly surprised. Yo-Yo looks taken aback for a second, but she shrugs. Clearly they’ve seen weirder things. May glares at Mack. 

_Never give the enemy anything they can use against you, because they will, and it will be your fault. And you will feel the weight of the guilt pressing upon your shoulders._

_“_ It’s no use,” Yo-Yo advises, as Fitz continues pounding. 

“Mack, Yo-Yo,” He greets them. He sounds relieved to see them, but his face is still furious, his hands still reaching toward the top of the cage as if he can reach Simmons. “May? What happened to your leg?” 

Fitz, it appears, doesn’t remember their training. May gives the tiniest shake of her head, fingers gesturing slightly up to the alien spectators, back to conversing their various different languages, translators working overtime. 

“So Simmons was with you?” Yo-Yo murmurs quietly, still fingering the lock. Fitz nods. He glances at May, seeming to ask the same question she had earlier. 

And all May can do is shake her head, and leave him to wonder if their friends are dead, because surely he’s thought of it by now. We can only ever think about what we don’t want to.

_And we can only remember what we want to forget, so we always remember that only the good die young._

May takes in her surroundings once more, because she can’t stand the lingering whispers of the thoughts in her head. The floor is cold metal, as are the sides. There’s a shield, a sword, and a few knives and daggers mounted on the wall. The orange, transparent barrier shielding the overlooking balcony is relatively new, because it’s unstable. Maybe someone tried to kill Kasius. 

Which, May decides, isn’t a bad idea, because it’s an ideal way to test how the barrier would react to an opponent being thrown against it. She walks over, grabs the swords, and throws it directly at Kasius’ head. 

A gasp arises from the assembled, the barrier bouncing the sword into the wall some twenty or thirty feet across from it. 

There is complete, deafening silence. 

Until Kasius claps. “You’re an interesting one, aren’t you? The Cavalry, I’ve heard, is what they call you.” 

_The Cavalry, a shadow that follows her, only gone when she’s in the dark._ _Maybe that was why she was in the dark for so long, before Coulson dragged her into the light. Now everyone can see it, just like they can see through her._

”And you’re the alien dictator,” May replies. 

The laugh from the observing crowd reaches its peak. It’s maniacal laughter, the kind you hear in movies from fairy-tale villains. “In a manner of speaking. Would you like to begin?” Kasius asks. This isn’t courtesy. If May says no, he’ll play it off as she’s too nervous. If she says yes, he’ll deign it overconfidence. He doesn’t want her to win this fight. But he doesn’t know what she’s capable of. 

“Bring out our friends first!” Mack yells. May glares, but not at him. She snatches a few knives, and tucks a dagger in her boot. 

“You claim to be friends with Quake, Destroyer of Worlds?” 

The entire company is on edge, aliens whispering to one another. So that's what they’re here for, May realizes, to see Daisy in action. They want to see what the girl who shattered an entire planet can do. And they want to buy her, because whoever controls Daisy can control the galaxy. 

_They always want an empire, an army, a war. There’s always another fight to win, another storm to brave. Then there’s always someone who has to take the fall. Someone innocent, never someone guilty._

Kasius waves a hand elegantly, and two more cages descend slowly from the ceiling; one with Simmons and one with Daisy. Simmons frantically looks for Fitz, then breaths an audible sigh of relief (audible, at least, to May, but she’s certain most can’t hear, because the crowd is going wild) when she finds him. She gestures discreetly to May’s leg. May shrugs. It’s a weakness, but she’s defeated bigger threats with worse. 

Daisy, on the other hand, quakes her cage, which (to May’s disappointment), does not splinter into a thousand pieces but instead rocks back and forth violently, causing Daisy to knock her head on the bars. May’s mouth twitches slightly, and she won’t admit it, but her heart warms a bit. 

She’s still Daisy, doing impulsive and reckless things with no forethought for the consequences.

May turns her attention to the doors on the other side of the arena, through which a man is being shoved, much like she had been. A thousand thoughts rush to her head, because this is about to get very, very complicated. 

May sees his face before he sees hers. The face that, once, was innocent, and now is scarred like they all are. Some people are just better at hiding it. 

_Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?_


	3. Chapter 3

Coulson comes through the doors, glancing around at the otherworldly beings currently watching his every move. May smiles bitterly when she sees him. Of course the first person they put her up against is Coulson. 

_Because all our worst enemies start out as friends._

“May,” He says, clearly relieved. He looks about the same, she figures, since the last time she saw him. He’s thinner than when they came through the monolith, but they all are, because she food here isn’t exactly nutritional and filling. Coulson gestures to her leg, just like they all have. 

Her leg remains her biggest physical weakness, preventing her from a number of attack and defense strategies and being a pain to move. There’s also the likelihood that it’s infected, because the steel pipe that impaled it was in the same room as a dead body and whatever had killed it, and the Lighthouse itself being unsanitary has not helped matters. 

“Friends, honored guests, good evening. Tonight, you will see just what my new competitor can do,” Kasius announces, “as she faces her former friends... the agents of SHIELD.” 

There’s quiet talk amongst the aliens - some translators, and a few making bets. 

“In this arena, we have one rule. Only one of you wins. A fight to the death,” Kasius continues dramatically. 

_Isn’t it always a game?_

May glances at Coulson. She can seen he’s deciding what makes the bigger statement. He reads her face. 

May runs to Coulson and Coulson runs to May. It isn’t a question, what’s about to happen, but an answer to one Daisy and the others must be asking in their cages above the arena. 

And suddenly, there is silence, even the softest of whispers fading, as instead of fighting and killing one another, they’re...

hugging. 

“Sorry,” Daisy says to the gladiatorial death enthusiasts, all of whom are shocked at what they’re witnessing. “They’re friends from work.” 

Mack snorts, muttering, “More like eels from work, my God.” 

“I can hear you,” May growls, letting go. They’ve made their point. 

_But the only way out of the game, is to finish it._

“ _Enough banter_ ,” Kasius bellows. “You either kill each other now, or the both of you face a much, much more painful death. One extended to days.” 

“The whole dying thing didn’t work out last time,” Coulson explains. “I came back to life, so.” 

“Join the club,” May mutters. Daisy perks up, rubbing her head where she hit it. 

“I forgot Simmons killed you!” She exclaims. FitzSimmons glare at her. Daisy sighs. “I didn’t mean it that way.” 

May rolls her eyes. 

“A demonstration, then. Sinara, if you would,” Kasius declares. The visitors are on the edge of their seats, some making more bets, but most watching for what could possibly inspire friends to kill one another at the request of a dictator. 

But May sees through it. Kasius is trying to save face, which means he cares about his reputation. 

Sinara drags a boy, sixteen or seventeen, and his eyes go immediately to Mack and Yo-Yo. 

“Flint!” Yo-Yo cries. Mack looks agonized. 

“Who is he?” May asks softly, so only Coulson can hear. 

“An Inhuman,” He replies. 

“Got that.” May gestures to edge of the barrier, where pebbles are gathering on their side.

“So you can’t use abilities inside the cages or on their side of the barrier. But on our side,” Coulson observes, leaving the statement open-ended. May nods. 

Without warning, Sinara’s spheres twirl around one another before flying straight through Flint’s left pinky, cutting it off. Flint screams in pain. May backs up, almost involuntarily. 

“Stop!” Yo-Yo pleads at the same time Mack yells,

”Let him go!” Simmons backs up to the farthest wall in her cage and clutches the metal, as if the farther she goes away the less likely it is that Flint will endure more harm. May knows better. There’s no running from this. 

_For each time we dance with death, we get closer and closer to letting go._

Sinara detaches the boy’s left ring finger. May resists the urge to hide as he screams. She can’t show weakness here. 

“If you win,” Kasius says, “you face death” - the spheres pierce his left middle finger - “by” - then his index finger - “dismemberment.” Coulson turns away as the spheres sever his thumb, and then cut off his left hand (or what’s left of it). 

Yo-Yo is pale, Mack’s face desperate. The spectators shriek in delight as, joint by joint, Flint is cut apart. 

When he’s dead, Kasius calls, “Take him out to his friends.” It takes them ten minutes to gather him up in a bin. Yo-Yo throws up. They don’t bother cleaning her cage like they do the floor. May thinks she sees a glimpse of Deke and Tess when the door opens as Kree guards carry out Flint’s remains. 

She turns to Coulson. “Would you like to be dismembered, or should I?” 

_Because the real stories only end tragically, in impossible decisions and fallen heroes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gladitorial Death Enthusiasts is going to be my band name if I ever am in a band, unlikely as it is.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a short chapter, just to get us all ready for imminent death. Enjoy!

“We have to think this through,” Phil murmurs. 

“If we don’t fight, both of us die like that. I’m not going to let you be dismembered for entertainment,” May hisses. “Besides, I have a decent chance at saving the rest of you. You’re not a fighter.” 

She sees Coulson’s heart break in his eyes. Everything she’s saying is rational, but he doesn’t want her to die like that. And he doesn’t want Daisy to die like that, and they both know that Daisy will do everything she can to make sure she’s the one that wins. To save them. Just like May will. Just like she has to. To save them. 

_We always try to save the world, because if we don’t, who will?_

“I can’t let you be the one to die,” Coulson replies. 

“And I can’t let you,” May says softly. She takes a knife from the floor. Reasons for what she’s about to do float through her head. No, not reasons. Justifications. She _should_ be the one to die. After all she’s done. She has the best chance to save Daisy. Coulson could never hurt Daisy. 

“May, Coulson, please!” Daisy begs from her cage, but she’s soon silenced as a metal sphere whips past her face. May isn’t looking toward Daisy, but to Sinara. A flash of a smile crosses her face, so fast May could have imagined it, but she didn’t. She knows she didn’t. May breathes in and out slowly once. Twice.

Coulson goes for the shield at the same time she lunges for him. She’s fought by his side for years. 

Unfortunately, he’s also fought by her side for years. He twists, leaping out of the way as fast as he can. He hasn’t trained in a while. But May has been training nearly every day for the majority of her life. She goes for the ground, sweeping underneath his attempt to catch her in midair with the shield, but he’s expecting it (damn it, he remembers the mission in Lima) and manages to hit her shoulder with his shield. May takes advantage of the her close proximity and manages to cut his forearm. 

Both of them turn away, rolling over to another side, and May manages to climb the cubes that are in select towers around the arena while Coulson checks his arm. She has the higher ground now. His arm is bleeding, and May can tell he’s in pain. Her shoulder aches, but no more than her leg. He has his shield in one arm, and he’s trying to ignore the other. She breathes in and out again. 

_We fail because our shoulders will always be to small to carry the pain we try to heal._

Before Coulson can ready himself, she leaps. She drops behind him and kicks her good leg beneath his feet. She lets go of the knife, because she wants it to be quick and painless. 

“I’m so sorry,” May whispers. Her mind fills with a thousand thoughts, and her heart aches with the pain of a thousand wounds, but it’s better this way. 

She wraps her arms around him and before he can react the way they were both trained to, she breaks his neck. 

Daisy and Simmons scream simultaneously and Mack and Fitz fall to their knees. Yo-Yo sobs, back pressed against the back of her cage in horror. Many of the aliens cheer or clap politely, but a few grumble, handing over money they have lost, because no matter what her nickname is, they didn’t expect her to be able to beat him. 

Simmons weeps, hand reaching out to Fitz through their cages who grasps it. He’s in disbelief, May can tell. He doesn’t want to believe it, and yet he is in mourning, unaware he is doing both at the same time, but doing it all the same.

Mack is staring at Coulson’s dead face, until finally he turns away, shaking his head. He breathes in and out heavily, head in his hands. 

Yo-Yo is still crying from Flint’s death, and now her face holds an expression of grief, and sadness, and of anger and fury. 

Sinara shows no hint of a smile, but May knows it’s there, beneath the mask she wears. It’s woven in her posture, the way someone stands when they say “I told you so” and etched in her glittering black eyes, the way an animal looks content after a full meal.

May can’t bring herself to look at Daisy’s eyes, because she know what they’ll say. They’ll say words Daisy won’t speak, asking how could she? How could May kill Coulson, after everything they’ve been through? 

_Because you never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have._

May lays her head on Coulson’s chest, listening for a heartbeat part of her wishes is there, and part of her begs to be gone. There isn’t one, just silence, and she knows it’s for the best.

Tears fall down her face.

She takes his hand. 

No miracles this time. 

Dismembered or not, she’ll see him soon enough. 

_Never trust a survivor until you find out what she did to stay alive._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while since I’ve written, so I’m sorry if you were waiting for an update! Everything’s been kind of a disaster lately, what with coronavirus.
> 
> CAN WE TALK FOR A SECOND BECAUSE THEY POSTPONED BLACK WIDOW UNTIL FUCKING NOVEMBER. NoVeMbEr. N O V E M B E R. 
> 
> I mean I understand why but it was gonna come out right before my birthday :((((
> 
> Anyway, ignore my rants and enjoy the chapter!

May looks toward the ceiling, willing tears to stop flowing down her face, wincing away from the haunted looks that face her. Mack, FitzSimmons, Yo-Yo, and Daisy. _Daisy._

Maybe _haunted_ isn’t the right word. Maybe the looks are looks of betrayal. 

_The irony is that we were humanity’s SHIELD, yet here we stand, fragments of a fragile universe, sharp enough to make each other bleed._

May can’t bring herself to clean Coulson’s blood off her hands, even though it’s what Daisy is staring at. The hands that held Coulson’s after she killed him. The hands that taught them how to fight. The hands that hugged them and calmed them and saved them.

Kasius and his horde of aliens seem to sense the mood change. It’s a race to save one another. But now there’s another incentive. Revenge. May forces herself to pick up her knife, clutching it in her shaking fist. Grief is a double-edged sword; they empathize with May but wants vengeance for Coulson. She has to save them. Mack, Yo-Yo, FitzSimmons, Daisy, none of them deserve to die the way Flint did. None of them deserve to die, really. But May has saved Coulson. He’s dead, but he didn’t die suffering. 

She will, and she’s made her peace with it. 

May isn’t sure who she will face until Mack’s cage door opens, a squeaking of bars and a rattling of hinges, and for a second, no one says anything. Then the crowd begins to make their bets: betting either upon the injured woman who just killed someone clearly close to her, or the man whose combat skills have not yet been assessed, but is built for war. Mack looks like a fighter. May knows he’s only what he has to be.

She glances at Kasius, with his carefully applied makeup and slim figure, surrounded by his servants. He’s obsessed with perfection of symmetry, of elegance and extravagance, that much May can tell just by looking at him. Sinara, his right-hand woman, with her intimidating demeanor and dark eyes hinting at what’s about to come. The single zipper extending diagonally through her dress proves she recognize she the perfection of simplicity. She thinks like May does. She knows May will win. 

_That’s the secret of being a specialist: how to get answers without ever asking the question._

May knows before Mack says it that he won’t fight. Mack is the best of them - the biggest heart, the moral compass. He won’t fight to the death and kill his team. There’s certainly a logical aspect of his choice - he’s smart; he knows that he can’t beat Daisy, and that’s what it will come to. Besides, he could never kill Yo-Yo. 

“I won’t kill you,” Mack tells her, loud enough that their audience can hear, and May nods, because he knows she knows why. 

“No!” Yo-Yo shouts, desperately trying to open her cage. “Mack, no!” 

Surely none of the spectators expected this - maybe Sinara, who can read people just as well as May can - and there’s a few murmurs of irritation from those who clearly bet significant amounts of money on Mack. But in the end, they’re here for the show, and Mack is giving them one. Excitement and hunger brew in their eyes. 

Mack’s eyes are sad, a little scared, even, but with oceans and oceans of hope. May wonders what it’s like to drown in so much hope, because he is. 

_All the hardest, coldest people were once as soft as water, and that’s the tragedy of living._

May wishes there was a gun, because she doesn’t want Mack to suffer. But all she has is a blade, and she’s not strong enough to break his neck cleanly - not without a few tries, at least. Mack closes his eyes. She wonders if it’s because he doesn’t want May to have to close them.

She wipes away tears so she can see.

Before she can change her mind, May darts forward and slashes his throat. Blood coats her hand before she can leap back, and droplets hit her face and fall like water, leaving trails on her skin. 

“No!” Yo-Yo cries, hands reaching out through the bars as if to catch Mack as he falls to the ground. Simmons is crying, and Fitz is trying to hold it together, but he’s losing that battle. Daisy tries to stop sobbing, and buried her face in her hands when she can’t. 

Yo-Yo is screaming as loud and she can, calling Mack’s name, but it’s all faded in the background as a blanket of white noise covers May. She briefly wonders if Yo-Yo is calling because she hopes Mack will hear her and come back. 

_But he won’t, because death is the debt we all pay for life._

May tried to soak up some of that hope that was once in his eyes, but Mack seems to have taken it all with him, leaving her with only grief and guilt and memories. So many memories. 

May remembers his laugh. His smile. The way he made her smile and laugh, which won him Daisy’s friendship, because anyone who could make May laugh was worth being around. 

May remembers when she was recruited. The woman who would become her SO said, “Come with me and save the world.” May said the same thing to Yo-Yo. What she really meant was, trust me to do the impossible. 

_What she really meant was, trust me to make the impossible decisions and bear the guilt when it turns out I made the wrong one._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic is going to be updated every Saturday now that I have a posting schedule which I will most likely follow. 
> 
> Enjoy <3

May's heart feels heavy in her chest like it's weighing her down. She's shaking, she knows she is, and she knows everyone can see it, so she's willing herself to stop. But she can't. There's dried blood on her hands and on her shirt, the blood of her friends, of her _family_ , of the people she swore she to protect. The blood of the people she loved with everything, and who loved her back unequivocally. 

Yo-Yo is shaking with anger as she steps onto the floor. May's bones feel the weight for each movement as she slowly begins to circle the young woman. Her muscles ache and splinter as she breathes in and out, in and out. She's in physical pain, yes. 

But it's nothing compared to what her heart feels. She _killed_ them. Maybe it was to save them from Kasius' ultimatum, but it doesn't change the fact that they're dead because of her.

_When she was a child, her worst nightmares didn't involve her mother dying in the field like most believed they did. It wasn't that she didn't care for her mother, it was that she knew Lian would always make it back. Not coming home was not an option._

Now, May inhales the scent of blood on her hands. It's a reminder, painful, but effective. This is what she is fighting for. This is what she will die knowing. She _saved_ them. Every life she took was a life that would have been killed like Flint was, in that horrifying display of violence and suffering. Maybe this will be a whisper in the back of her mind as they tear her limb from limb, a tiny voice that allows her to die in what little peace she has left, or maybe it will be what she screams, as she undoubtedly will. She doubts anyone could go through that much pain without screaming. 

Yo-Yo is furious, that much is obvious, but beneath her fury, there's pain, pain that isn't as easy to see. May sees it because she knows heartache. She knows because she heard her best friend was dead over a radio, and she wasn't there to save him because she was too caught up in her own misery and self-loathing. She knows what this is like. She knows what living with that is like. But she also knows that it doesn't matter what she understands. She caused that pain. And Yo-Yo wants revenge, something May wishes she could offer her. If this was one of Coulson's favorite old movies, the narrator would say, "This is where it all went wrong" or something equally cliche the effect of, "You really should not have killed her boyfriend." 

May is caught off-guard the first time Yo-Yo snaps forward. She knows from Yo-Yo's perspective, she's just run forward and let loose a barrage of punches against May, but all May sees is a blur, and then she feels pain from her stomach and chest. As soon as she looks up, Yo-Yo is exactly where she started. The crowd goes wild because _this_ is something new. This is an Inhuman, and Inhuman they can get behind. This is power, deadly power, power May has yet to match. If Yo-Yo hears Daisy screaming for both of them to stop, _just stop it_ , she doesn't show it. 

_Melinda's mother taught her many things. She taught her to be prepared. She taught her not to let them get to you. She taught her that if they're looking for a fight, let them have one. It is your job to defend yourself in this world because no one is going to do it for you._

_And the most important lesson: don't make the same mistake twice._

The second time Yo-Yo comes for her, May is ready. She can't see anything, but she anticipates Yo-Yo. She fights the instinct to kick or punch in the vague direction of wherever Yo-Yo may be as soon as she feels the first blow, instead knowing that this is her shot. 

The thing is, May trained Daisy, and then she trained Inhuman Daisy. Training Inhuman Daisy was trial-and-error, and May had to figure it out along the way. It was the same principle she used when training Yo-Yo. To train an Inhuman, to train anyone really, you have to understand their power. And to understand their power, you need to understand the strengths and the weaknesses of that power.

Yo-Yo can run somewhere and fight someone in a heartbeat. But no matter where she goes, she snaps back to the same spot she was before she ran. That's a strength sometimes, especially when scouting, but it's also her biggest weakness, the chink in her armor. 

May dives for a spot that's slightly blurry in her vision, sliding through the ground and throwing her good leg out. She blinks, and Yo-Yo has been knocked to the floor, giving May and opening. A cheer rises from the aliens above, stunned at this development. Sinara doesn't look surprised. May meets her eyes, and Sinara's smile unnerves her as she looks directly at May and then at Yo-Yo. May glances to Yo-Yo but Yo-Yo is - 

Yo-Yo is also prepared.

_Melinda's father's lessons were often contrary to her mother's. Use what you have around you, and don't bother wasting time regretting what you should have brought. Look for a peaceful solution first. A true warrior can defuse a situation with her fists, but also her voice._

_And above all else, never underestimate your enemy._

May realizes her mistake as soon as her feet have left the ground. Something is missing from her side. Her knife. 

Yo-Yo holds it up, and May twists as much as she can, but she can't avoid being stabbed. May supposes that she should be grateful. If she didn't recognize that slip, it easily could have been fatal. It's a sharp pain in her left side, below her heart, toward the bottom of her stomach.

May's been stabbed before, and just like all stab wounds, she doesn't feel anything at first, and then it feels like she's on fire. Like flames are licking up her spine (she has no idea why it's always her spine, but almost every time she's been stabbed recently, _something_ hurts her back. Maybe she's getting old). She feels the familiar sparks ignite in her heart, just like they always do because she's been stabbed after all, and even though she might pretend that it's not a major wound... that knife was certainly not a pocketknife. 

If May's being honest, it wasn't a kitchen knife, either. 

More like a half-sword, in fact, which would be alarming, but at this point, May just doesn't _care_. 

She hears Daisy give an almost-held-back cry, like she doesn't want to care about May, but _goddamnit_ she still does. May turns to her, maybe just because she wants to see Daisy's face, but she thinks the better of it and instead watches as Daisy yanks into the bars of her cage even though she knows it's no use. May bites her lip and tries to ignore her, turning her focus back to Yo-Yo. 

_"This life is not easy," her mother said once. "It is full of heartbreak and pain and suffering."_

_"And happiness, Mama?" Melinda asked, looking up at Lian inquisitively._

_Her mother's eyes softened, but her mouth formed a hard line. "The world is not kind to innocents, Qiaolian."_

May feints to the right, which Yo-Yo was never good at reading when they were sparring, and it pays off. When Yo-Yo moves to intercept her, May spins to the left, going for where she knows Yo-Yo will be, going for the knife in her hand. 

Yo-Yo is a fast learner, but not fast enough. She sidesteps expertly (if they weren't trying to kill each other, May would be proud of her), but she was expecting May to knock her to the ground, not to grab the knife. As she does, May twists it out of her grasp, cutting a few of her fingers on the blade but ignoring the sting. 

Simmons is covering her eyes, sobbing in the corner of her cage, her cries rattling the metal. Fitz is holding her hand through the bars of their cages. His face is a shocked expression, as if he can't believe this is what they've been reduced to. He's still standing, but swaying on his feet. Daisy, having trained with May for much longer than Yo-Yo, screams for Yo-Yo to look out. She doesn't hear it in time. 

_"You have nothing left to lose," Nick Fury told her when he approached her about spying on Coulson.  
_

_"You're wrong. I didn't have anything to lose. But I do now," she replied. Fury's eyebrow arched. "I have Coulson." Fury inclined his head in agreement, and May accepted the offer. Her best friend was back from the dead, after all. Not many people got that chance._

_She wishes now that she hadn't taken it._

Before Yo-Yo can take back the knife out of May's outstretched hand, May forces her entire body backward, relying on the artificial gravity of the Lighthouse to pull her down. 

She hears the telltale scream and feels the knife catch, the cool metal cutting its way through flesh. 

Daisy screams, but Simmons doesn't even look up. Her cries get louder and Fitz stumbles, his back pressed against the back of his cage, horrified by the sight of their friend, bleeding out with a knife in the exact place where she stabbed May earlier. 

There's chatter among the spectators, some disappointed. May supposes it's not much fun to watch one person win over and over again, no matter how gruesome the deaths of those who lose are. But most of the murmurs are cheerful. She thinks that about half of them bet on her, and despite this achievement, she can't help but feel ashamed. This is how she's won their respect: by murdering her team. 

Simmons is curled at the back of her cage, fingers still clutching Fitz's, shaking terribly. Tears run down her face silently as she stares at Yo-Yo, blinking every few seconds as if, when she opens her eyes again, things will be different. She'll wake from a dream, maybe (though this is better categorized as a nightmare). Simmons doesn't even notice when Kasius leans forward and presses a button on a remote, a remote handed to him by Sinara. She doesn't even notice when the lock on her cage slides open. 

_Sometimes the heart needs time to accept what the mind already knows._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on that note.. I'm sorry?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *remembers it's Saturday*  
> Also me: OH SHIT -  
> You guessed it, me: *crying* Miss Simmons I love you I'm so sorry

"Jemma," Fitz says, shaking as he gestures to May, his face a picture of fear. May never thought she'd make him look like that. "Jem-Jemma, look." Simmons looks up at her cage door, which is slowly sliding open, controlled from a small remote in Kasius' hand. Her blank expression doesn't change, but she involuntarily shuffles backward until she's pressed up against the back of her cage. 

_How are you supposed to feel when you know you're going to die?_

To May's surprise, Jemma doesn't leave her cage like everyone else has. She doesn't raise her fists or try to run. Maybe she knows that she doesn't have a chance of surviving this. Maybe she knows that she could never beat me. Maybe that's why she just sits there, holding Fitz's hand as he panics, looking at the body on the floor and then at Simmons and then at May. 

May fights the urge to glance at Yo-Yo's corpse, where blood still seeps from the knife in her stomach. She remembers the sharp inhale, the soft exhale from Yo-Yo's mouth as the knife slid into her stomach. 

"May," Fitz says, standing up and letting go of Simmons' hand as May walks slowly to her cell. It falls with a thud next to Simmons' body, and she doesn't flinch. It's eerie, unnerving, like she's already dead. "May, please. Stop. We can work on a plan, we can figure something out. We always do! Hey! Hey! May! May wait, May please! May! _May!_ "

May knows that desperation. How many times has she seen it, heard it before? Simmons, jumping out of the Bus to try and stop the transmission of an alien virus, Fitz, wheeled into a brain trauma center with Simmons following close behind - "He did it for me, May, he did it for me!", Fitz working tirelessly to open a portal to another world, _twice,_ Simmons, refusing to leave the Framework without Fitz, even when he held a gun to her head...

the list goes on and on. 

_"Love is not finding someone to live with, Qiaolian," said Lian after she and William told Melinda of the impending divorce. "It is finding someone you cannot live without."_

May knows she has to do it. She has to kill Simmons. There's only one reason, one thought that occupies her mind as she stands at the entrance to Simmons' cage. Sweet, bubbly Simmons who was too damn oblivious to her feelings to see Fitz right in front of her the whole time, who won Scrabble every time they played as a team with her boundary-defining yet acceptable words. Simmons, who crossed the universe and came back, Simmons, who May taught to properly fire a gun, who maintained her sense of humanity even after their world became one of aliens and robots and monsters and magic. 

All May can think of as she waits numbly for Simmons to fight back, to do something, to say something, are the memories. So many memories it hurts. So many memories where Simmons held her hand, now covered in the blood of their friends, so many memories where Simmons told her it was going to be okay, and now it will never be, so many memories of the bright-eyed scientist with a heart of gold. Simmons was the glue that held them all together when everything was falling apart. 

_"We're all broken, May," Simmons said on occasion. "That's how the light gets in."_

"Have you given up?" May asks Simmons softly, holding her breath even though she knows the answer. 

Simmons looks at her mournfully, her eyes half-closed in grief and perhaps acceptance. "You always taught us never to give up, but you the one who's killing us." 

"To save you," May whispers. "I would never kill you just to kill you. You know why this has to be done. You know what I have to do. You heard what Kasius said. You saw Flint." 

"So _you're_ the one who's given up," Simmons concludes. "Not me. Because there's always another way. Besides killing." 

"Besides _saving_. I would've thought that you, out of all of us, would understand." 

Lucy Bauer, the ghost, passing through May, changing what she saw. Demons, in the bodies of her team, or so it looked like to her. Simmons, or rather, Demon-Simmons, standing over her with a needle in her hand, apologizing under her breath. For just a second, she was with Coulson. 

And then she woke up, as if from a dream. 

Simmons shrugs. "I suppose you're right." 

"Jemma!" Fitz yells, pounding on the bars, tearing at the lock, not caring as it bruises his knuckles and bloodies his fingers. 

Daisy wipes her eyes and her nose, her hoarse voice screaming. " _Simmons!_ "

They've been waiting silently, listening, both Fitz and Daisy, try to see if Simmons could convince May to... to what? To stop? And then what would they do? There's no escape from this place, not with the guards and Kasius and Sinara and the crowd watching their every move, not with the arena enclosed and fortified like it is. And when they were caught, Kasius would just kill them all the way he killed Flint. Better to just have one of them die so brutally then all of them. 

Or all that remains of them. Coulson, Mack, and Yo-Yo's deaths are irreversible. May can't live with that, not for the rest of her life, which is what would have to happen if they escaped. If they got away, she'd have to live. At least for a little while. She hopes Simmons understands. She hopes they all understand. 

She hopes they all forgive her. 

_She hopes they know she never wanted this. She never wanted any of them to get hurt. She never wanted to kill them. She just didn't want them to suffer._

Simmons doesn't raise a hand to defend herself. She doesn't even try. She just sits there, big brown eyes looking up at May, leaning against the bars of a cage that so resembles one in which they keep birds, forcing them to sing, never letting them fly. Never letting them free. 

May knows Fitz and Daisy are screaming, but it hears nothing. She knows Fitz is trying to break down the bars, open the lock, do anything to reach Simmons. She knows that he'd succeed if he had more time. Because he's Fitz, and she's Simmons, and if there is one thing that is right in this universe, it is FitzSimmons together. 

So May tries to cover Simmons, at least block her from Fitz's view as she kneels in front of her. She doesn't want him to see this, to remember the sight of her dying, even if he'll be dead in a few minutes, even if his memories will be gone soon. 

She hugs the scientist tightly, hoping she can convey her sorrow and her regret and her pain in that embrace. Hoping she'll understand. Simmons hugs her back, tears staining May's shirt like the blood of everyone else already has, and maybe this is worse. Even if she doesn't understand, she cares enough with that heart of gold to empathize.

Her neck breaks, a sickening sound that will never stop ringing in May's ears, and she's gone.

_Nothing gold can stay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is a quote from the iconic Robert Frost poem 'Nothing Gold Can Stay' and essentially what's saying is that nothing lasts forever (including the Bus Kids, apparently).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow we really love me forgetting that I had to update this fic yesterday. Sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy <3

Simmons looks so small in death. Like she curling in on herself to keep out the cold, shivering near the embers of a long-dead fire, seeing her breath in the air as she slowly exhales. Or maybe like a child, hiding beneath her covers with a flashlight from the monster under her bed, eyes wide and terrified, hands curled into fists so hard her nails break her skin leaving little crescent-moon-shaped cuts in her flesh. 

May thinks it's cruel she has to look so helpless, so scared, so _alone._ At least Yo-Yo's body looked surprised - shock is something May can handle. Shock is familiar, like a slap in the face, but at least the pain fades from sharp to dull and throbbing in an instant. This vulnerability is raw and sickening, less like a knife through a stomach, and more like a bullet to through a heart. 

She bites her lip, knowing she has to turn around a face Fitz eventually. Knowing she has to look into the eyes of one half of a whole that she just ripped to shreds eventually. Knowing he has to see the full extent of what she's done eventually. Knowing he has to look into the eyes of the woman who's saving him by killing the person he loves more than anything in the world. 

_Knowing he has to fall apart eventually._

She almost doesn't notice the creak of bars, the opening of a lock, the weight settling as someone leaves one cage and enters another, but she does, and when she looks, Fitz is standing in front of her, his hands in his hair, his eyes wide, his face stricken, or panicked, or afraid, or all three. It's horrifying to see him like this, but May can't bring herself to look away. What is Fitz supposed to be in a world without Simmons? _Who_ is Fitz supposed to be in a world without Simmons? 

"Y-Y-Y-You killed Jemma," Fitz says, his voice and body trembling.

It's not like May can deny it, but it hurts to nod, to confirm that _yes, Jemma Simmons is dead and it's my fault_ , so she just stares at him, stares at his bright blue eyes that always seem to light up a room whenever he walks in, stares at his hands that are shaking uncontrollably as he curls them into fists, and then returns them to their typical position, in and out, in and out, in and out. She stares at his face as it travels between Simmons' frail corpse and May's blank face, kneeling on the ground in front of her. 

This must be boring the crowd above them, but May can't bring herself to care, even though she knows Kasius is likely to make rash decisions if he feels a loss of power. Instead, May looks to Daisy, who's looking at Fitz. Daisy's eyes are enraged, ready to Quake the world apart (if it hadn't already been done), but her face is horrified by what she's seen. 

If she's being honest, May isn't sure which one hurts the worst. 

_The problem with being your own anchor is that first, you have to drown._

She leans back, finally letting Fitz see Simmons' face. He doesn't look, though, he just keeps looking at her or off into space, whispering numbers - no, _equations_.May wonders for half a second if he's thinking about trying to bring Simmons back, but she immediately dismisses it. Even if he had enough time and the right equipment, which he doesn't, they've proven the negatives outweigh the positives. Then again, May didn't think about anything but Coulson when Fury told her that he'd brought him back, so maybe that's how Fitz feels: desperate, willing to do anything even though there is no hope. Just to see her wake up again. Just to tell her all the things he hasn't said yet. 

Just to be by her side. 

"You're going to kill me, and then you're going to kill Daisy," Fitz says. It's not a question, it's a statement, but May answers it anyway. 

"I'm going to save you both, yes." 

"Say it for what it is!" Fitz roars suddenly, making May flinch in surprise. "You're going to _kill_ me, and you're going to _kill_ her, just like you _killed_ Jemma! Regardless of whatever reason or - or _justification_ you have, you killed them, right?"

"Yes. To save them," May says because that's the only thing holding her together. That she saved them. 

"Yeah, well Ward threw me and Jemma out of a bloody _plane_ to save Daisy!" Fitz shouts, and May winces. "And HYDRA said they were saving the world when they put guns to the heads of _three million people_! Why can't you _see"_ \- his voice cracks like lightning, shocking May backward - "that you - you're just like them!" 

May almost can't breathe for a second because she knows why he thinks what he thinks but she's not - she's not - "But I'm not trying to save the world! We are all going to die and I am making sure you don't suffer!" 

"If you didn't want me to suffer, then _why did you kill Jemma!_ " Fitz yells and May feels everything spiraling out of control and she needs everything to stop, just slow down and _stop_. 

" _Because I can't die knowing any of you will be torn limb for limb when I could have prevented it!_ " May screams. Her hands are shaking and suddenly she can feel the blood under her nails, the metal bars closing in around her, the eyes of everyone in the room on her. She can feel the bright lights, the smell of death in the air or maybe that's the smell of her skin. 

_Because I can't die knowing that if you were me, and if our only chance was to fight, then we would fight together._

"But you didn't even try," Fitz hisses, the words slipping like venom off his tongue. "You didn't even try to find a way where _no one_ died. And that's what makes you like Ward and HYDRA and Hive and AIDA and everyone else! Because there's always a way where no one dies, you taught us that. You just have to be willing to look for it.

His words cut like glass, shattering the only thing that was getting May through this, the only thought that rang in her head as she fought and killed her family: _I'm saving them, I'm saving them, I'm saving them._ Her heart hurts with a new wave of pain as she leans against Simmons' cage, tears in her eyes.

She can see the alien horde on the edge of their seats out of the corner of her eye, like a hive of bees trapped under her skin, stinging and lighting fire to her nerves, like volcanoes erupting in her bones that she can't control, scalding her inside and out. 

She hears Daisy whisper something, or maybe she's shouting, but she can't distinguish the words with the pounding of her heart in her head, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, like a sound of footsteps when a child runs down the stairs. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump. 

_"None of you are fearless," began her hand-to-hand combat professor at the Academy on day one. That stirred up the room, as many of them had been described as 'fearless' their entire lives. "You're not fearless. You're brave. Bravery requires fear. And fear is born out of loving something enough that its loss would break you. So who do you love that you're brave for?"_

May wants to whisper to her old professor that she's brave for Coulson, for Daisy, for FitzSimmons, for Mack, for Yo-Yo, for her team. For her family.

And she has to be brave for Fitz now.

Her hands curl into fists, and as a reflex, her leg swings beneath Fitz's in an attempt to knock him off his feet. It works, but she used the wrong leg. Her wound has been quietly throbbing for a while, but as if it has just now remembered it exists, it brings on a jolt a pain. 

She bites her lip to keep from shouting. 

Fitz is on the ground now, his face level with Simmons' dead eyes (small mercy that they're closed, May thinks), and instead of breaking him, this seems to reignite him. He's on his feet by the time that she has managed to stand. She pities him in an almost cruel way. 

It's close-quarters hand-to-hand combat, inside a swinging cage, with neither of them trying to hit, kick, or otherwise touch Simmons' body. May, even May with one leg, has been training in these types for longer than Fitz has been alive. 

No guns. No knives. No way to get weapons without turning your back on the enemy. 

_Death returns like autumn and we fall every time._

Fitz swings blindly, putting all his weight in his fist instead of in his core. May easily sidesteps, letting him pull himself forward and crash against the cage bars. She kicks him in the back, grimacing as he screams when his spine cracks, biting her lip as he falls to the ground beside Simmons. 

Maybe it was too easy, she thinks as he looks up at her in pain, but then again, that wasn't the kind of move she'd usually make. That was what Coulson would call cheating and May calls fighting dirty because she doesn't always think that fighting dirty is cheating. 

_"Textbook move," explained her professor on day two. "Your enemy has two hostages. Choose one, loose one. Choose neither, everyone dies. Can anyone explain to me what we do then?"_

_Everyone said something along the lines of 'save them both.' Their professor told them that most of the time, they should try to do that._

_"And if you can't," he said. "Then choose the youngest of the hostages. Whoever has more life to live."_

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos/comments if you feel this merits them! They make my day! 
> 
> Cheers!


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